


Not Yet Broken

by ShapeshiftingTango



Category: Prison Break
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 07:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4657857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShapeshiftingTango/pseuds/ShapeshiftingTango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a desperate attempt to save his little girl from poverty and starvation, Toby made a grave mistake. One that cost him freedom and landed him in prison, Fox River Penitentiary. No sooner did he step over its threshold, he attracted the unwanted attentions of a certain prison yard predator. Here's hoping he can survive the length of his bid, a decade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is being reposted from my fanficnet account. Please do not come at me acting like I am stealing it. I even have the same user name on both sights. Chill. Everything is on the up and up. I am gonna be continuing the story from where is was left, but please have some patience if where you're reading ends up meeting with where I am writing.

On a cold November walk, Tobias tried to pump himself up. With heavy breaths and an inner monologue, he justified his actions. Yelling in his mind, though somehow the voice of his thoughts never actually got louder, Toby pushed the blame for his lousy life and the life he was making for his daughter on anything he could come up with. It was all their fault, or its fault, not his. Never his. He was angry. He needed the anger to go through with the idiotic plan of his. Worry trickled in the corner of his mind, which flooded his thoughts as he neared the final block of his journey. Toby slowed, a little, trying to stamp down the fear that bubbled. He leaned against the brick of an alleyway, grabbing at his skull. He was terrified of what he was going to do, but it was either this or a child going hungry and that was an easy choice to make.

With one last sigh, Toby yanked the ski-mask over his face and charged into the Photo-mat. Much to his delight, only he and the teenager behind the counter were around. Toby raised the gun and the kid freaked out, and rightly so. He started blubbering and backing away, that was until he ran into the printers directly behind him. The boy’s hands were thrown up in front of his face, like his palms could stop a speeding bullet. Dumb kid, Toby almost couldn't bring himself to say his lines. Almost.

“Open the drawer and give me all the cash. Now!” Toby roared. To himself, his voice seemed to crackle and waiver with fear . He hoped this boy took him seriously. He didn’t want to hurt anybody here. He just needed the money to keep he and his daughter off the streets. Narrowing his eyes, Toby gestured to the register hurriedly. Panic is a powerful master and every minute he spent in that place panic thundered louder in his veins.

“Okay, Okay, sir, please...I am just a kid. You can take the money. Just please don’t shoot. Please.” The child whined as his fingers fumbled over the bills. He was stuffing them into a plastic sack when the door chimed. Toby spun around and saw a man dressed in black. Cop! He shot before he actually took a good look. What he assumed was a policeman armed and ready to take him down, was really a middle aged guy picking up his order before heading home after a long day of work. His suit soaked with blood so quickly. It was drenched in what seemed only seconds. The man dropped to his knees and then to the floor. The blood puddled on the tile, a crimson halo ever growing around him; he died before the first police lights flashed in the windows.

Toby practically ran home, the bag of money tucked into his jacket and the gun returned to his trousers. He'd tossed the mask into an alley and raked his fingers through his hair. What had he done, what had he done?! He had killed a man, that’s what. An innocent man who probably had a family waiting at home, forever waiting. Not unlike himself, for that night was the last he would spend with his daughter in a long time.

The police came for him the very next day. His daughter locked tightly around his neck. Crying, shouting, the mean men were taking her daddy away.

Social services would place little Anna in the care of her aunt and uncle in California. Anna had never met them for she and Daddy lived far away in the heart of Chicago. Toby nudged his little girl’s head with his own, for his hands were bound in chains and shackles, and promised her that his sister would take good care of her while he was away. Anna nodded sullenly with tear tracks dried on her cherub face. This was the day Daddy was sentenced to Fox River Penitentiary for the next ten to fifteen years.

* * *

The bus reeked of sweat and body odor. It was as if going to prison meant you had to neglect all things respectable in the outside world, like hygiene. Toby couldn’t look at anyone on the bus; as if, allowing the others to exist would mean that all of this was really happening to him. That he was going away...that he would not see his daughter until she was nearly, if not, a complete adult. That was the part that hurt the most. His little girl would probably forget him in that time. Not in the sense that she wouldn't know that he existed, but that she would not remember the timber of his voice, the way he hugged her like she was the anchor keeping him safely in the harbor. She wouldn't remember how he smiled or the stupid jokes he would tell her just to see her own grin, or hear her giggle. He doubted she would even want to see him when he finally did get out. All she would know of him was that he was a criminal, a murderer.

Toby shook those thoughts from his head, choosing instead to count the electricity poles as they flew by. After a while he lost count but continued to watch them. They seemed almost hypnotic. Pole after pole, Chicago disappeared far behind them. They passed through small towns, long countryside. Just an endless line of wire and wooden beams. And then they were there, time gone in the blink of an eye and yet the longest ride of his life; the castle like features of the prison looming overhead, the guard towers, the razor wire. Tobias was not a religious man, but in that second, he made prayer he hoped would not fall on deaf ears.

“Alright Scum, off your asses and into a line. Step off the bus and wait for further instructions. I'm sure you've noticed your jewelry. You are cuffed to the man beside you for the rest of the walk inside, so don't think you're gonna get far if you make a break for it. That and I have permission to stop you at whatever force is necessary. Now, Move it!” The transportation guard ordered, adjusting the rifle on his shoulder so he could unlock the doors separating the convicts and the driver. It didn’t take long to file the group off the bus. Toby stood in the middle of the pack in a three-legged walk to the gallows with some guy he'd never seen before that day. He smelled of cigarettes, similar to the kind his father smoked. Toby was shorter than average, coming in at around 5’7”, but these men, the mountains that shuffled ahead and behind him in line, had to be almost six and a half feet tall. If prison didn't make Toby feel small and insecure enough, the ambiance procurred by the mammoths certainly helped. Toby had to distract himself form where his mind was leading him, dark tales imagined over endless hours of television and fueled by fear. He didn't need that. So instead, he glanced around him.

That decision proved to be a mistake. As they passed the fences surrounding the prison yard, and area designated for the convicts to get fresh air and exercise, prisoners leered suggestively and taunted the line of ‘fish’. Toby didn’t know where to look or how to act. His eyes connected with venomous amber toned eyes, ones that almost smoldered with lust. The man’s tongue snaked out of his mouth to wet his lower lip and pull it between his teeth as he gave Toby the once over. A shiver shot down the young man's spine and he shuddered visibly, much to the amusement of his admirer. He tore his eyes away from the crowd and let them sink to his shoes. Distraction; yeah, that helped.  
Once inside, Toby had to take off his clothes and place them in the basket on the bench. To him, it seemed like everyone else didn’t feel put off by having to be naked in front of a bunch of violent men, including the vigilant guards. The were shockingly cavalier over the nude form of the inmates. Toby thought to himself, ‘I just need to keep calm... with a clean nose I can get out on parole. If I make it to the parole hearing...’ He had to stop himself there. There could not be an if. Toby was going to make it to that hearing and he was going to get out of here. He would see his daughter again, even if she didn’t know him anymore. ‘Just keep Anna close, she will pull me through.’

Toby finished folding his clothes neatly in the box. They were his only pair of khaki’s and button down shirt. Toby couldn’t afford a suit for his court date. He guessed that his appearance didn’t help the jury to rule in his favor.

“Get a move on, convict.” A guard appeared out of nowhere, disrupting Toby’s thoughts, demanding that Toby take his sorry ass into the showers to be deloused and then to be checked for anything he might be smuggling in here. Toby couldn’t believe people would actually try that. But beings they had the examination, there had to be a need for it.

The water in the shower was incredibly cold and it burst randomly, spraying a fine mist of the foul smelling liquid in Toby’s face, like rotting eggs. The guards tossed delousing powder all over Toby and it burned his eyes. They began to water, but the shower hid that. Lucky for Toby because otherwise it would have appeared like crying. He rubbed his eyes trying his damnedest to remove that horrible powder from them. No such luck. He squinted hard, to see through his watery, itchy eyes as he was led behind the screens.

“Run your hands through your hair and shake it. Okay. Now open your mouth. Lift your tongue.” The nurse wrote something down, probably checking off each thing they completed of the exam. “Right. Lift your balls.... Turn around and spread your cheeks.” Toby’s face flushed with embarrassment as he did what he was asked. He flinched when he heard the glove snap against the examiner’s hand. He scolded himself for not mentally preparing for this, but then again how could he have. It was not like he knew he was going to be molested on his way in. He'd thought another con would be the bearer of that bad news, not a prison employee.

He was then given two uniforms and bed linen, then sent back to his box where he dressed slowly. He felt so vulnerable after the examination, he was sure he was still blushing. He turned his stuff into the prison, watching his last articles of freedom get locked away. The man behind the counter shoved a clipboard into Toby’s hands and gestured back towards the benches. He sat on the edge, his knee bouncing with anxiety as he filled out his information, medical issues, etc. It didn’t take long to fill it all in. He didn’t have much to say. Even back in childhood Toby had always been in good health besides minor anxiety issues. He’d had a panic attack or two in high school, but that was nothing to write home about.

Grabbing his stuff off the bench beside him he made his way into line, at the head of which was a mean looking correctional officer. His face pinched and eyes dead, void of emotion, like marbles, as he recited his orientation. Toby didn’t want to talk to him but knew it was inevitable. The line quickly disappeared. Toby gulped as he stood in front of Officer Bellick, as the name tag read.

“Name and back number.” He snarled without looking up.

“Um, Locke, Tobias. 96253.” Toby stuttered, choosing to look at the papers he’d handed over, which now sat in Bellick’s meaty hands.

“You a religious man, Locke?” Again he did not look up.

“No, no Sir.” Toby was getting flustered with his inability to speak properly.

“Good 'cause the ten commandments don't mean a box of piss in here. We got two commandments and two only. The first commandment is you got nothing coming.” Bellick wrote something down on the sheets in his fist, seemingly done with his sentence.

“And what about commandment number two, Sir?” Toby asked gingerly. Finally Bellick lifting his gaze and a slow smirk grew.

“See commandment number one.” He sneered, looking Toby up and down, sizing him up. What Toby didn’t know was that Bellick was a sadist that sold pretty, young fish to the prison predators. Toby just made that list. His short, lean stature and shaggy brown hair would catch the attention of every predator in the joint. Bellick stood to make some serious cash.

Finally, Toby and his bus mates were led into the cell blocks. The cons locked in the cells were very loud. Toilet paper flew through the air and again the leering and suggestive comments ensued. This time Toby knew better than to look about. Bellick took them to the middle of the room. This acted as a sort of show for any cons wanting to buy a boy, but the auction had just started. Bellick would place the pretty ones in with safe cons till the bidding was over. The Aryans took in most of the boys, they were insatiable and went through prags so quickly with their rough ways that were constantly in need of more. Bellick expected that they would be willing to pay quite a bit for the inmate 96253.

Toby shifted awkwardly in the line. It was harder not to look at the cons when he was just standing in the midst of them. His shoes were not that interesting and he realized that having his head hang like that would appear to be defeat, or fear. Both of which he was feeling, but neither could he actually let the others see. So he lifted his head and tilted it back and forth, pretending that he was stretching it rather that staring at his freshly issued prison boots.

He looked straight ahead, trying to let his vision go out of focus but with all the noise echoing around him he could not seem to faze out. Instead he saw all the eyes watching him and what he saw in those eyes made him want to run away, to hide in some hole. He put on his poker face, trying to wipe away all emotions. He hoped that it worked but he had only started. These men had been doing the poker face for much longer than he and were probably just as skilled at seeing through them.

One set of eyes caught onto Toby’s for the second time. The man from the yard leaned into the bars of his cell. His arms draped casually through the metal and that tongue of his still tracing his thin lower lip. The weirdest thing was that he was one of the few not shouting at the new comers. He just sat there, staring. A sinking feeling formed in Toby’s gullet that he couldn’t seem to shake.

Bellick then separated the line into groups that headed to each of the three tiers on each side of the cell block. Toby was placed in a cell with an old man on the main floor. The guy didn’t seem to notice Toby. He just kept reading his book and stroking the silky fur of his purring feline. With a sigh, Tobias turned away from the cell door, wishing that everyone in here ignored him as his cellmate did. He set his articles on the top bunk, beings that was the one the old man was not laying on.  
Once he finished dressing the bed and placing his toothpaste and such near the sink, Toby slouched against the wall facing the older man. Again the man did not acknowledge him. He turned the page and released a tender sigh. The book he read was Huckleberry Finn. Filled with such tales of adventure, Toby could understand the man’s quiet wish to be out in the fresh air enjoying freedom like Huck.

“That was one of my favorite books as a kid.” Toby stated, dropping his eyes to the blanket hanging over the side of the bed.

“Hmm?” The man tore himself away from his mental freedom. “Ah, yes, it was mine as well.” His lips twitched into almost a smile. Toby took this as a sign that conversation was now approved.

“I’m Tobias Locke.” Toby stretched out his hand.

“Charles Westmoreland.” He nodded and took a hold of Toby’s hand as he set the book down on the bed, dog eared pages pressed to the blankets to hold his spot. “And this is Marilyn.” He patted the cat’s little head.

“She is adorable, but I didn’t know we could have pets?”

“We can’t. She is grandfathered in from a time when inmates were allowed a creature comfort or two. After she is gone, that’s it. No more.” He eyed his little friend softly, his palm resting on her side. She purred a little louder, just for him. Toby could tell that she meant the world to him. Marilyn was Charles’ family in here.

“I hope that isn’t for a long time.” Charles nodded to Toby. Just then, a buzzer shocked Toby from his crouching pose.

Charles chuckled a bit, “It’s time for dinner, Boy. Don’t get yourself all worked up.” Toby couldn’t help but laugh at himself. He had been scared by the dinner bell. Then again, he was scared of everything in this place.


	2. Chapter 2

Toby followed Charles out into the yard the next day. He had to bob and weave to get around the inmates who seemed to make it a point to bump into or push him. Charles on the other hand, leisurely strolled over to a set of benches holding Marilyn to his chest. With a huff, Toby plopped down beside him. Charles couldn’t help but chuckle at how the younger man was acting. It was like Toby expected the people in here to be courteous and step out of each other's way. It only made it tougher that Tobias was good looking. The cons had it out for him. He was a pretty boy with wavy hair just long enough to brush the bottom of his neck, long enough to use as a handle to control him with.

From their vantage point, Toby could see almost all of the yard. It was clear that race was a big deal in here. All of the black people were grouped in one part of the yard, the Hispanic people in another, etc. It was bewildering to Toby to see that though his world on the outside had been colorblind, in here color was everything.

Charles was a nice man, but he wasn’t much of a talker. Toby grew bored of just sitting there and decided to stretch his legs for a bit. That was the whole reason for being out there in the yard in the first place. Avoiding the larger groups, Toby made his way to the fence line and began to follow it around the edge of the yard humming a tune his daughter loved. He warmed his hands in his pockets, feeling inside one of them for a picture of his little girl. He had taken the photo on her sixth birthday. Even though it was a little bit outdated, he needed to keep her close to him.

His second time around, a little ray of sun broke through the clouds. Toby stopped to enjoy it, sitting lightly on the top of the bleachers. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, bathing in this new found warmth. A slight smile played on his lips, but faded quickly as he heard feet climb the bleachers. Toby’s head snapped forward and his eyes opened.

“Well, well, don’t ya just look all lonely up here.” The southern drawl leaked from the cold-eyed man from the yard and the cell block. His group gathered at the bottom of the bleachers, all but a man with a faux hawk who clung tightly to the pocket of the southern man. Toby tilted his head slightly to the side, unsure of whether he was being threatened or not.

“Just enjoying the sun.” He replied, a weariness in his voice. The group smiled, some even snickered. The southern man climbed another step towards Toby, a sly grin plastered on his face.

“Mmmm, mm, ain’t we all.” He paused to leer at Toby. “But a boy like you could use some...protection...in a place like this. Can’t go all dreamy eyed whenever the sun shows up n' not have someone watchin' your back.” He licked his lips again, leaning forward to rest his forearm on the leg he pressed on the bench beside Toby. He was towering over Toby now and way too close. Suddenly it was clear to Toby, abundantly clear, that these men were definitely threatening.

“Well, thanks but, um, no thanks. I don’t need protection.” Toby stuttered, uncomfortable with the closeness of this man.

His face suddenly grew cold and dangerous, then just as quickly it relaxed. Toby stood automatically, leaning back as to not bump into the older man. “Calm y'erself, Boy,” The man gestured for Toby to sit back down, “n' tell ol’ T-Bag what’s y'er name?”

Toby continued standing. He couldn’t seem to follow this guy. One second he was threatening him and the next he is asking his name. “Tobias Locke...and you are?” Toby tried to make his voice stop shaking.

“I already told ya, Sunny, my name is T-Bag. Didn’t y'er mama teach ya to listen?” He straightened, looking Toby straight in the eye even though he was on the step below him. Again, the lust in his eyes was very noticeable and Toby had to look away. The younger man, clinging to T-Bag’s pocket glared daggers at Toby.

Fidgeting, Toby tried to step to the side, but T-bag and company followed suit. “Listen T-Bag, I don’t want trouble, okay? May I leave?” Toby tried to reason with the man. A low chuckle spread throughout the pack.

“Now, now, no need to get all feisty on me, fish.” T-Bag sneered. “I just want to make sure ya understand. Those niggers are gonna come for you, soon, n' they are gonna rip ya in half, Boy.” He paused to lick his lips. “Ya need protection. Protection that I can offer, fer a..eehh...small price. You just gotta hold onto my pocket.” He smacked the faux hawked man’s hand away, twisting the fabric between two fingers.

The disgust was evident on Toby’s face. He shook his head. “You already have a girlfriend...” T-Bag patted his bitch’s shoulder tenderly and the man glared again at Toby.

“I don’t know if ya noticed, but I do have two pockets.” The southerner leered.

“Again, thanks but no thanks.” Toby looked off into the yard. T-Bag slapped his bitch’s hand away as the man reached to take the pocket back and stepped into Toby’s space.

“Then ya best leave. Now. N' don’t let me catch you back here, fish.” With that T-Bag leaned forward enough to throw Toby off balance. Biting onto his lip, he watched as Toby fell over the backside of the bleachers and landed hard on the ground. A shocked and painful moan escaped Toby, the breath knocked out of him. He coughed and rolled onto his side, struggling to stand. And there was T-Bag, laughing, ‘helping’ Toby off the ground. Toby was pulled to his feet, feeling T-Bag’s hands wander his ass and abdomen on the way up. He dusted Toby off, and in a low sultry voice said, “Run along now, Sunny. Run along.”

Toby, with eyes like saucers didn’t wait around. He split, walking as fast as he could back to the bench with Charles. He heard the group laughing at him as he did so. Helping him up like that was T-Bag’s way of marking his territory, a good portion of the yard kept tabs on the encounter. Upon his arrival to what he considered the safe part of the yard, Toby put his face in his hands and sighed a sigh that was more than fear and frustration. It was every emotion Toby had felt thus far and the stress that was building inside him.

Charles eyed him, by his side, but didn’t say anything for a long time, he had seen similar confrontations with T-Bag. They all ended the same for the boys. Many of them had spent their first few days safe in his cell, but they were always moved. Charles had learned not to grow attached to the new kids. Finally, when Toby was ready to sit up again, “You need to steer clear of Theodore Bagwell. He is dangerous.” That was all he had to say, as if Toby hadn’t already realized that T-bag was a dangerous individual. The sun had hidden behind the clouds again and out of the corner of his eye, Toby could see T-Bag sitting on the top of the bleachers watching him. He fought to suppress a shudder.

* * *

During tier time, which is when the inmates can roam free about the tiers and the cell block, Toby stayed in his cell with Charles. He told himself he wouldn’t hide away forever, but he really didn’t want to run into T-Bag again anytime soon. Watching the other cons wander back and forth, conversing and fighting with each other; he looked up to the higher tiers, it was hard to accept that he was really here. Toby was barely more than one day old in the prison system and already he was being pressed to be someone’s bitch. He didn’t know if that was normal or not but he felt ridiculous and scared. Normally Toby was a socialite, he would shortly become the center of attention at any party but in here, he didn’t want anyone to notice him and he couldn’t seem to keep under the radar.

Just then, an inmate was escorted back into the cell block. He was a tall guy with a furrowed brow and barely any hair on his shaven dome. The man walked with such confidence and purpose all the way to his cell, on the second tier. How could he be so cool in here? Toby was afraid to move half the time, and this guy seemed completely unfazed by prison life. He had to admire him, to some extent because of it.

Westmoreland soon became Toby’s Google of sorts. Any inmate Toby wanted to know more about, Charles seemed to know it all. The confident guy was Michael Scofield. He robbed a bank and got five years here for it. Michael thought that Charles was actually some D.B. Cooper guy, who jacked a million dollars, they say. Toby didn’t see how Westmoreland could do that with his quiet, calm demeanor. Anything is possible, though, who would have thought that Tobias could kill a guy. No one.

Charles mentioned to Toby that he should also watch out for the mob boss John Abruzzi. He ran almost everything in there, got some guards on payroll, too. It’s a scary thought that an inmate like that could do whatever he pleased. Toby made a note to stay out of the Italians’ way. Like T-Bag, who he had learned raped and killed six kids in Alabama, Toby doubted if there would be much choice of avoiding them. The king pins of prison seemed to be everywhere.

“LIGHTS OUT IN FIVE!” A guard name Geary shouted. Most of the inmates ignored him for now, but some started moving toward their cells. Toby rolled over on his bunk and stared at the ceiling, hands resting behind his head. The dull murmuring of conversation ebbed into silence as the cell doors locked and most of the lights cut out, leaving only a haunting glow.

“Oh, Sunny. I know you’re awake in there...” T-Bag half sang into the night air, which had quieted as most inmates tried to sleep and the rest listened in. Toby knew he was talking to him, but he would not respond. There was no need. T-Bag knew he was listening. So, he taunted Toby. T-Bag spun innuendos and barely hidden threats. Turning down his pocket was not the end of this thing T-Bag had for Toby. If anything, pissing him off might have been a bad idea. Not that Toby was rethinking his decision. No, being Bagwell’s bitch was not something he wanted to accept. After a while, Toby finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Bellick was getting bids left and right for the boy in with Westmoreland. The Aryan group led by T-Bag, also known as the Alliance for Purity, had yet to place theirs. Bellick knew that was the one to wait for. He saw T-Bag approach the boy the other day. He also saw him push the boy and then ‘help’ him back up. Oh, the Alliance was very interested in inmate 96253, Tobias Locke. With the money he was going to make on this kid, he could buy himself a 3D television. He heard bad reviews for those, but hell, when you have the money, why not.

As the buzzer sounded and the cell doors opened for morning call, Bellick made sure to make eye contact with T-Bag and he was not disappointed. The slight nod meant later today, Bellick would have their bid. The inmates headed to the cafeteria for breakfast, which today was runny eggs and greasy hash with stale bread and bitter orange juice. Toby, eyes still clouded with sleep, or lack thereof, didn’t notice that he had lost Westmoreland nor that T-Bag had slipped in line right behind him.

“Sleep well, Sunny? I know I did. Wanna guess what I dreamed about?” T-Bag almost whispered into Toby’s ear. A shudder ran through him and he picked up the pace. T-Bag laughed to himself and sped up as well. He made sure Sunny knew he was breathing down his neck the whole way to the cafeteria. Once they were among the tables, T-Bag split to go sit with his gang of Purity, where his bitch was waiting, angry that his protector was eying other toys. Toby only relaxed when he found an empty table in the corner of the room, farthest from the doors unfortunately. This meant he would have to walk by T-Bag and his crew on his way out to the yard.

Toby stared at his food more than he ate it, it was the worst food he had had in a long time. It was made by inmates so Toby just hoped that all he was eating was food. He rushed through his meal, wanting to be outside more than anything, right then. Again the day was cloudy but at that moment, sun still could shine through the wispy clouds streaming across the sky. They made water like shadows in the dead grass that played with the eyes.

It seemed like once again the best sun was over on T-Bag’s bleachers, but this time he stayed away, while another prisoner made the mistake of sitting on them. Toby could see Michael Scofield playing with the bits holding the structure together. It was probably a nervous habit. T-Bag was still inside eating, so Michael was in the clear for now. Toby turned away from him and sat at one of the chess tables, toying with the pieces, he played against himself for a while.

T-Bag exited the building with his usual flare and much to his delight, another fish was sitting on his bleachers. They just kept coming didn’t they. T-Bag would have to get more pockets the way this was working out. He would have to start calling his bitches by weekdays, he chuckled to himself as he sauntered over to confront this fish. Of course, he wouldn’t have to ask his name. See Michael was making waves with those blue eyes of his. Hell, T-Bag knew exactly who he was from across the yard and he had to admit, the reviews weren’t even close to what he was actually like. T-Bag sucked his lower lip into his mouth and let his tongue dance across the outside. Scofield.

Toby twirled a pawn between his pointer finger and thumb, looking about the yard. He noticed the races pushing at the edges of their areas. A white guy wandered onto black territory and was immediately stepped to by a large group, forcing him to leave. As yard time came to an end, it had all but come to blows. Tobias had never seen so many people so worked up. He shook his head and kept out of the way as he walked back inside.

Toby decided to take his chances and lean on the outside of his cell door during tier time. The racial tension continued to boil inside the block, too. Keeping tabs on the goings on, Toby noticed that Michael was in rummaging through T-Bag’s cell. What a strange man. Earlier that day, T-Bag approached him with his pocket and he said no, of course. Then, he shows up on the bleachers again and T-Bag took something from him. Now he is in the man’s cell. This Scofield was an enigma to Toby; he seemed to want to piss the gang leader off.

Just then T-Bag and his goons returned, from wherever his power bought them right to go, and caught Michael in the cell. Toby couldn’t make out what they are saying but it was obvious that Michael wasn’t going to get what he wanted. As he stormed out and up to his cell, T-Bag noticed Toby watching and winked at him with a wicked smirk that made Toby’s stomach sink like a stone in his gut. That was something Toby didn’t know how to handle so he broke away from the cell door and headed into the cell itself. Crouching he pet Marilyn and she mewed at him softly. Charles lounged on his bunk, again reading the adventures of Huck Finn. Toby was sure he had read the entire book twice in the few days they had known each other.

“Count!” a CO bellowed. With a few grumbles, Toby helped Charles to his feet and step out onto the yellow line for roll call. With his hands in his pockets, Toby shifted his weight back and forth, from heel to toe, like a child. He waited for the CO to call his name, when one of the Aryans ran across the space and stabbed a black inmate. The place erupted into violence. Michael got tossed over the tier rail but seemed to be alright despite his rough landing. Toby tried to return to his cell but was dragged away by the back of his shirt and tossed into the middle of the floor. He spun around to see a muscular black dude stalking toward him, shank in his hand and hate in his eyes. Toby scrambled to his feet in just enough time to dodge a jab to what would have been his face.

Swing by swing, the black inmate backed Tobias into a corner. Toby shrank back as much as possible, praying again to a god he didn’t believe in. The hulk tensed and his blade glinted in the lights. Toby squeezed his eyes shut and then nothing happened, rather Toby heard a slight gurgle. Toby gasped, wide-eyed, as his pursuer fell bleeding to the ground. “Ya owe me now, Sunny.” T-bag growled before again disappearing into the battle. Shaken, Toby finally made his way back to his cell. Charles was already inside, holding Marilyn and watching warily for attackers.

“You alright, kid?” Westmoreland asked, eyes still searching the crowd. With a deep breath, Toby nodded, not trusting his voice to back him up in this situation. “Good, thought you were a goner for a second there.”  
Toby looked at the old man for a second before watching the crowd as well. “Are you alright, Charles?”

“Yeah, this isn’t my first rodeo.” He shrugged. The two settled into silence as gas cans are shot into the cell block. The smoke filled Toby’s lungs and he began coughing uncontrollably. His ribs hurt and his eyes burned.  
Through the pain, he heard a distinct southern twang, “SCOFIELD!” The single word contained so much rage, it was like the howl of the wind in violent storm. Toby was terrified for Michael, though he was sure Scofield was feeling enough of that for the both of them. Inmates raced to get to their cells and out of the gas before they are locked in no-man’s-land. After a minute or two the cell doors slammed shut and the gas was filtered out. It was silent for a while, the warden said there would be a lock down for the next 48 hours. T-Bag put this time to use torturing Michael all night instead of Toby. Not that Toby felt lucky, because T-bag lost his bitch that day and he owed T-Bag his life.


	3. Chapter 3

Those two days of lock down were a blur of boredom. Toby paced his cell and tried to work out. He read a book and wrote a letter to his angel. He didn’t tell her anything about the prison, nothing that would scare her. Instead he told her about Marilyn and about the sunshine, and the way the clouds made the earth look like liquid. Tobias hoped that his letters would show Anna that he was not a monster, really.

Toby took out the photo of his little girl and circled her adorable little face. She looked so much like her mother when she smiled. He missed them both so much. It had been years since his wife had passed. Anna probably didn’t even remember who she was, she was so young then. Hell, Anna was only 8 now. Her entire world turned upside down because Daddy couldn’t keep them above water. He had her when he was only 16, his parents threw him out. He wasn’t equipped to care for Anna and Janice. Toby brought the image to his lips and he softly kissed his daughter’s face. The wind kicked through the yard, fluttering the edges of the wallet sized photo. Big emerald eyes, squinting in the bright light and dark brown hair, like his own. His little angel.

“What’s that ya lookin’ at, Sunny?” T-Bag sauntered up. Toby jumped a bit and stuffed the photo in his pocket. “Missin' y'er girl already, are we?” Bagwell giggled to himself. “I’m ‘fraid, less y'er hitched, ya won’t be seein' none a that poon in a LONG time, Boy.” Toby stood up and moved to walk away, but T-Bag doesn’t give up easily.

Toby glared at the dirt ahead of him, trying his best to shake the creepy pedophile. “It does appear, I’ve hit a nerve. Ya got somethin' you don’t want me to know about?” T-Bag kept pace with Toby.

“Back off, Bagwell. I am tired of your shit. And I am not interested in what you have to offer, so why do you keep bothering me?” Toby stopped walking and faced the rapist. He hoped his face didn’t show how scared he was to square off with the man.

“I keep botherin' ya because I have a vacancy in my cell n' you, you owe me.” T-Bag simmered. “Now in a day or two, I am gonna arrange fer you to move cells. You are goin’a move in with me, ya hear.” Toby glared at Bagwell for a second before walking away again. This time T-Bag did not follow. “So if ya got secrets, ya best get ready to share ‘em, Sunny.”

T-Bag always had to push the envelope. There was no way to back out of this problem. Bagwell had already paid Bellick and he did have an open bunk. Toby couldn’t ignore orders from Bellick and his complaints would not be given credit because Bellick ran cell assignments. To top it off, Toby still owed T-Bag. He was caught between a rock and a hard place.

Again on the way to breakfast, as he had for nearly every meal, T-Bag followed Toby. He kept bumping into him and each time T-Bag made sure to rub against him in a sexual manner. Toby tried to lose T-Bag in the crowd but T-Bag maneuvered it with ease. “Ya know, ya got such a pretty mouth on ya, Sunny. I cannot wait to get better acquainted with it.” T-Bag walked parallel to Toby, leaning in real close to stress the acquaintance waiting to be made in his cell.

“Not going to happen, T-Bag. I’m not gay.” Toby muttered just loud enough for Bagwell to catch.

“Now, I don’t care what y'er sexuality is, Sunny, so you can just keep on foolin' y'erself into thinkin' ya have a choice.” T-bag sauntered away finally. Fear filled Toby like winter in his veins. Gooseflesh spread about his body and refused to ebb. Again the food was shit and again Toby sat at the only table empty. His solitude didn’t last long though, as within a few minutes trays were dropped on the table and the Purity began to fill the chairs. They had all moved from their table in the middle of the room to his, some even dragging along their own chairs to make everyone fit.

Toby shrank back into his seat and gripped his fork in his fist to be a weapon if need be, even though it was plastic. No one spoke to him. They just continued talking and laughing as though he were not there. Then a hand squeezed his shoulder and slid down his arm, taking a seat right next to him. Toby didn’t have to look up to know it was Bagwell. He grabbed his tray and started to rise but Bagwell pushed him back into his seat.

“Where do ya think you are goin'? Huh, Sunny?” T-Bag left his hand resting on the younger man’s shoulder. Toby knew he wouldn’t be going anywhere without T-Bag’s approval right then.

“Nowhere now, I guess...” Toby growled,refusing to look the man in the face.

“You got that right, boy.” T-Bag bit his lower lip lightly. “Quick learner we got here,” Bagwell all but laughed. The group laughed for him and then continued to ignore Toby, but Bagwell paid extra close attention. His hand roamed from shoulder to knee and Toby leaned as far away as possible. It seemed like forever till the Aryans finally started to leave. Tobias hoped that Bagwell would go with them, but he waved them on; leaving just he and the fish sitting there alone.

Before Bagwell could even begin to mentally molest Toby, he jumped from his seat. Though T-Bag managed to grip part of his shirt, dragging Bagwell to his feet as well, Toby yanked away and with a glare he walked at a breakneck speed to the yard. T-Bag ambled after him, feeling no need to rush the cat and mouse game of theirs. “They always think they can run away...” T-Bag chuckled to himself.

Outside, Toby watched Michael Scofield limp through the yard. He didn’t know what happened to the guy, but assumed it was the issues he was causing with Abruzzi. The other day Abruzzi’s goons beat the shit out of Michael and the guy managed to smack Abruzzi himself in the face before the guards shut them down. So far, Toby had not run into the mafioso. That was the only bit of luck he had managed to scrape together in there.

Toby sat with Westmoreland, hoping that the old head would keep the likes of T-Bag over in his little corner of the yard. That didn’t keep the creep from staring the whole time though, and that alone put Toby on edge. He bounced his knee, anxiety churning his stomach, though that may have been the food. Toby wanted T-Bag to die; he wanted enough money to buy back his cell with Westmoreland. He knew that’s how T-Bag was getting Bellick to switch him. He knocked his head for ideas but the only guy in here with that kind of money available was Abruzzi, a man he otherwise wanted to avoid like the plague.

Yard time ended and Toby headed to his cell for a nap before lunch, but Bellick stopped him just outside it. “You got a cell transfer, fish.” The pig snorted. Toby was sure he paled to a sickly white, he hadn’t thought that the transfer would be today. Bellick only sneered and shoved a box in the younger man’s hands. “Pack up. You got two minutes.”

Bellick trudged behind Toby. He could see why Bagwell was taking this one in. Toby was small and had a hard time standing up for himself. He probably got beat in high school by the bullies. Of course, those bullies didn’t want in his pants like the ones in here did. Unfortunately, Toby didn’t have many belongings. He couldn’t drag out his final two minutes with Westmoreland. The older man nodded a stoic goodbye to Toby who attempted a weak smile in return. Westmoreland was a good guy, and not bad company if you had the patience. He’d almost become a sort of father figure to Toby in the few days they'd spent with each other.

T-Bag relaxed in the doorway of his cell, watching as Bellick led the terrified fish to his new home. A sadistic smile spread across his face, fresh meat and good tail. He could practically smell the waves of fear coming off the kid. That night would be a first of many that he would have Toby lying on his stomach. For that, T-Bag was positively giddy. Toby, on the other hand, wished he could just disappear. 

Bagwell didn’t move as Toby tried to make his way inside the cell, forcing the younger man to brush against him. He smirked to Bellick and followed his new toy inside. His eyes traveled the length of the man as he placed his belongings about the cell. 

“Ya get top bunk Sunny.” Bagwell breathed into the back of Toby’s neck, sending tendrils of ice down his spine. Toby swallowed and nodded. He started to climb up the beds when Bagwell hands ran along his frame.

Tobias froze mid climb, “Don’t touch me, T-Bag.” He finished climbing onto his bed. T-bag threw his hands in the air in mock innocence.

“Just tryin' help ya out, Sunny. No need to get all flustered.” With a huff, Toby rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling; knowing full well that Bagwell was still watching him. He dreaded to think about what would happen after lights out, but he already had a good idea.

The day seemed to fly by and with each passing minute Toby grew tenser. The evening count concluded, the cons were locked into their cells. Now Toby was alone with T-bag but the lights were still ablaze. The only security Toby had was that the guards could still see him. He clung to the bars, his breath erratic. His heart pounded at his ribcage, as if trying to break free. Bagwell sauntered up behind his scared boy and gripped his hips. He pressed himself against Toby, his semi hard cloth covered cock rubbing over the younger man’s ass. He loved the way Toby flinched away, tightening his ass cheeks instinctually. Bagwell chuckled and made an appreciative noise in his throat, while Toby's clamped down on his airways. He couldn't breathe with the guy so close. He froze like a deer in the headlights.

“You are gonna be well worth my money, and patience. I can tell that already, Sunny.” The rapist cooed in Toby’s ear. Grinding slightly against the younger man, pushing him flush against the bars. “It’s almost lights out...” He let the threat hang in the air.

Toby squirmed and finally broke away from the bars. Away from Bagwell, but he had nowhere to run. It wasn’t like the yard or the cafeteria. He was locked in a small cell with this rapist. Pedophile. Murderer. There was no escaping him. Not this time.

* * *

“ Lights out, cons!” A CO thundered and within seconds Toby’s world grew shadowed and quiet. It was too quiet, like the cons were waiting to hear Toby’s muffled screams of agony. Toby had spent the rest of the day in his bunk, pressed against the wall. He had to listen to T-Bag whistle and hum some cheery tune that incidentally caused Toby even more fear. Now that the lights were gone, Toby felt the bunks shift as Bagwell stood up.

The older man stretched out his arms and popped his back a few times before turning around and settling his cold eyes on Toby, who was trying his hardest to sink into the wall behind him. Bagwell lurched forward, grabbing a fistful of Toby’s hair in one hand and his clothes in the other. He was dragged from the bed and thrown against the concrete wall on the other side of the cell. With a crack, his head smashed against the wall and bounced, Toby felt dizzy for a second, but was then thrown to and pressed against the bars for the second time that day. This time, Bagwell was not as careful with his body, not caring if it looked exactly like what was happening or not.

He crashed against Toby, just as Toby did the bars. The younger man stifled a moan, feeling the cool slide of a drop of blood break through the skin of his forehead. Some of his skin was left on the concrete wall. T-Bag pumped his hips into Toby’s clothed ass and wrapped his arm around the boy’s throat. He had no room to move and not enough air to fight. Bagwell licked his lips and then the side of Toby’s neck. The boy even tasted of fear. He chuckled against the flesh and nibbled his way up to Toby’s ear, which he sucked on lightly for a second. His other hand traveled to the hem of Toby’s prison issue pants, tracing circles into the skin of his stomach just above.

“Reach up and let that there sheet down, Sunny.” Bagwell sighed, but Toby didn’t move. He was a statue of desperation. He thought about yelling out but T-Bag had him by the throat. It wouldn’t take much to stifle the scream.

“No way, Bagwell.” Toby gasped. His knuckles turning white as he gripped the bars.

“Either you lower that there sheet, Boy, or I take you anyway and everybody watches...” The rapist grunted. He couldn’t care less, either way he was getting what he wanted. Toby’s hand rose slow and shaky to the tape above the door frame. T-Bag pulled him away from the bars as the sheet quietly slid into place, obscuring the already dark room to mere shadowy forms. “Good boy.” Bagwell shoved Toby down into his bunk.

Panic swelled in Tobias’ chest and he retched away from his aggressor. Fight or flight throbbing in his muscles. Flight was out of the question, so Toby tensed his body and clenched his fists. Bagwell seemed amused by this change in action. He liked when they tried to fight him off. It meant he could beat the will out of them. In one step, T-Bag was in Toby’s face, daring him to throw a punch. Shocked by the southerner’s speed, Toby took an involuntary step back. That was all T-Bag needed to see to know that the whelp wouldn’t be hard to break.

His fist connected with Toby’s gut, knocking the breath out of him. The younger man doubled over, wheezing only to have T-bag’s knee come up to meet his face. Toby stumbled backwards, groaning as his nose spurted blood. Bagwell stepped into his space again and Toby threw his fist. It cracked across the pedophile’s jaw and T-Bag’s head whipped to the side. Just as suddenly, Bagwell was staring into Toby’s eyes again, but this time it was too dark to see the mix of lust and murder in them. Toby could sense the danger in the air and he wound up for another punch, but T-Bag was quicker. He grabbed Toby’s head in both hands and knocked it hard against the wall. The younger man relinquished a painful groan and lost his footing. 

In barely a second Bagwell straddled Toby’s hips, punching Toby’s face repeatedly. The boy’s vision faded in and out, blood filled his mouth. He coughed between swings, spattering T-bag’s shirt with red spots. Toby’s head lolled to the side and Bagwell ceased his attack only to rip the shirt from the younger man’s body. He trailed his sinful fingers across Toby’s chest and down his stomach, admiring the solid, yet undefined, muscle till he reached the hem of his pants for the second time.

Bagwell made short work of those as well, all the while skillfully keeping hold of the squirming inmate below him. It was quite evident that Theodore had done this many times. With one hand pressed against Toby’s throat T-Bag slid his own shirt over his head. He tightened his grip, cutting off air to Toby’s lungs when the younger man bucked against him. He refused to release the boy till he saw Toby’s eyes bug out in desperation to breathe. Toby gulped in air almost like the fish he was.

Grasping Toby’s arm, Bagwell flipped him over and shoved the younger man’s arm up the middle of his back. Toby cried out, a cry which soon faded to whimpering. He couldn’t move without dislocating his shoulder and felt T-Bag’s erection press against his thigh. It was almost too much for T-Bag, watching the way Toby’s shoulders slightly shook with choked sobs. T-Bag wanted to cause as much pain as possible. He wanted to mark Toby’s milky flesh with cuts and bruises. Theodore wanted even more so to stain the inside of Toby too heavily to ever fade away, like the tattoos of the pretty Scofield. With no warning, no preparation, T-Bag thrust himself deep into the boy’s impossibly tight hole.

A scream erupted from Toby’s mouth that echoed in the cell block, agony laced in every octave. It was met by cheers, thunderously loud, louder than the riot had been days earlier, or at least that was how it sounded to Toby. T-Bag almost warned him that the bleeding was caused more by Toby thrashing and trying to get away after already being impaled, but it was all too good. He pulled nearly all the way out and slammed home again, this time clamping his hand over Toby’s mouth. One scream was to claim his bitch, any more would bring in the pigs and end their fun.

T-Bag laid kisses and bites on Toby’s shoulders, thrusting as deep as he could into the boy. The blood and precum acting as lube, it became easier for the both of them, but the pain was still unbearable. Toby sobbed but he no longer fought, he had felt his ass rip open and with every move he made, he felt it open more. He choked on muffled please-stops and oh-god-it-hurts. T-Bag’s vicious rhythm was relentless, he was driving for his own pleasure and release. Pain, everything was pain, and it far out weighed any other sensation. Tears streamed from his eyes. He couldn't stop them, nor the moans of anguish blended with T-Bag’s grunts above him. 

Bagwell released a noise from within his throat and buried himself in Toby’s ass as he filled the cavern with his hot seed. It burned in Toby’s wounds as he pulled out and it leaked from the boy’s tender hole. T-Bag fell forward, resting on top of the boy’s body, huffing heavy breaths into his shaggy hair. He patted his new toy’s head and trailed his fingers along the younger man’s side. “Ya were definitely worth my money, Sunny. Mmmhmm, best fuck in years...”

T-Bag lifted himself off his bitch to clean the blood off of himself and went to bed. Toby didn’t dare to move for the longest time, the pain throbbed in ass and his face. Everywhere. He just lay there, damaged in unimaginable ways for hours. It wasn’t until he could hear his attacker’s snores that he managed to reach for his clothes and recover his battered body. The nurse would come for him in the morning, there was no way the staff didn’t know what would happen to him that night. He just had to wait till morning, he repeated to himself.

Toby couldn’t lift himself up into his bunk. T-Bag likely made him have the top bunk just because of this. He would have to choose between sleeping on the cement or in the same bunk as his rapist. More torture. Toby doubted it would ever end. He laid back down on the floor, careful to avoid the puddles he had created there. It was so cold, he shivered and winced at the pain of it all. Eventually he drifted into nightmares, reliving again and again what had just happened to him.

 


	4. Chapter 4

 Bellick strolled into the cell block and headed straight for T-bag’s cell to survey the damage and how best to go about getting the kid to the infirmary without sending Bagwell to the SHU. When he arrived he was astonished by how many smears of blood covered the cell. Both cons continued to sleep, Toby having never moved all night. Bellick would have to wake them both before the rest of the block and have them clean it up before he could do anything.

Using his keys, to avoid any unnecessary noise, Officer Bellick opened cell 16. He tapped Bagwell first, “You couldn’t have cleaned this mess last night, Bagwell?”

“Well, Boss, I was a little busy at the time...” A drowsy yawn escaped the con.

“Get your ass up and clean it now. Your boy is still sleeping in his filth.” Bellick grunted with disgust. “Get him cleaned up as well. I’ll take him to the doc in about an hour, when the rest of the trash wakes up.” With that Bellick spun on his heel, relocked the door, and headed for some coffee. The kid must have put up some kind of fight to make that kind of mess.

In the cell, T-Bag chuckled to himself as he looked about, seeing all damage he’d managed to do to his toy, and the paintings they’d created with their sexual escapade. Stretching once more, he finally climbed out of bed and crouched beside Toby’s sleeping face, he looked so innocent in his sleep. Even with the black eyes, bloody nose, and a busted, swollen lip; he looked delectable. It almost saddened Theodore to wake him, but not quite.

T-Bag lightly smacked the boy’s face a few times. He came to rather quickly for all the energy spent last night. Toby’s eyes blink a few times before settling on Bagwell. They surged with fear and he scooted himself to the wall. T-Bag chuckled softly, “Easy, Sunny, we gotta get you, n' our cell, cleaned up to meet the doc.” He leaned closer to his boy, enjoying every bit of the terror he saw.

Toby finally looked around and all he saw was little bits of himself splattered here and there, some of him pooled in the spot where T-Bag raped him. Toby rushed to the toilet, ignoring the pain it caused, and vomited everything he had left in him. T-Bag laughed behind him and gingerly patted the boy’s back. “There, there, Sunny.”

Toby shrugged him off, “Don’t touch me, T-Bag.” His voice was hoarse from screaming.

“You do not tell me what to do, bitch.” T-Bag warned, smacking the boy’s hip which sent waves of pain from his ass. “Now, get out of those clothes and clean yourself up.” T-Bag grabbed the shirt from Toby and whetted it in the sink to use as a washcloth. He just managed to wipe up the final sticky puddle when the lights turned on. T-Bag returned to the sink, rinsing the rag as best he could. He tossed it under the bunk with the rest of Toby’s soiled clothes.

Bagwell leaned against the top bunk, rubbing his chest and stomach idly. A slow smile played on his lips as he watched the boy try to reclaim some of his dignity. Toby sat awkwardly on the floor by the cell door. The sheet now safely taped up again, he watched the other cons wake, waiting for the time when he could finally get away from Theodore Bagwell. Toby knew enough about prison to know that he couldn’t say a damn thing about anything if he wanted to survive this place. People abused a punk, but they killed a snitch.

* * *

Toby stood in Dr. Tancredi’s office, looking out the window. She had sunlight that streamed in from rising sun. The warmth on Toby’s face was all that was keeping him together at this point. That and his little girl far away in sunny California. He was willing to bet that she was enjoying this sun right now, too. Hopefully, much more than he was. The doctor shut the door quietly behind her, carrying Toby’s file in her other hand. She could see as she entered a red spot forming on the back of Toby’s trousers. He was still bleeding, which meant that he was going to need quite a few stitches.

“Good morning, Tobias.” She winced at the phrase. His morning couldn’t be going that well. “I am Doctor Tancredi. Do you have any allergies to pain medications that you neglected to write down?”

“Um...no, Doc. Not that I know of.” Toby didn’t turn around. He was afraid to see the sympathy in her eyes. The pity.

“Alright, could you remove your clothing Mr. Locke and put on this gown.” She set it on the table next to him. “I will be back in a minute to begin your examination.”

Toby stared at the gown for a while, he didn’t want her to see how weak he was. To see his wounds. It took everything he had to do as she asked, but by the time she returned he was gowned and sitting on the examination table. She could tell in his eyes that he had checked out for now, not that she blamed him. She wouldn’t have wanted to be poked and prodded after what had happened to him. She had him lay back and she lowered the gown to drape across his nether-regions. She examined all his upper body and facial wounds before asking him to turn over. She couldn’t help but blush for him in asking it. He complied, obviously still far away. She made note of all the bite marks that broke the skin of his back and shoulders.

Repositioning her patient as gingerly as she could, Dr. Tancredi prepared for the most invasive examination of this meeting. The young man was ripped apart and she had to administer ten stitches to close his bleeding taint. “You are going to have to be very careful with these stitches and make sure you keep clean to avoid infection.” She removed her gloves. “You may dress in the new clothes provided.” She left the battered man in peace. She wanted to comfort him but knew after her examination, she would never be allowed in.

Toby finished redressing and stood at the window once again. He didn’t have to wait long for Officer Bellick and Dr. Tancredi to return. “Mr. Locke, would you like to tell us what happened?” Sara cautiously inquired. Toby turned around slowly, the swelling in his lip had reduced a lot since Bellick last saw him.

“Nothing happened Doc.” Toby sounded like a robot to himself. He could not tell the woman what happened, especially with Bellick standing right there. He doubted if he could even utter the words if he tried. She looked so disappointed in him.

“Was it your cellmate that did this to you?” She pressed. Toby couldn’t look at her, he just shook his head.

“May I leave now, Dr. Tancredi?” He nearly pleaded. If she kept digging at him, he was going to break down. He couldn’t break down, not now, not here. She nodded sadly, allowing Bellick to grip the young man’s arm and tow him away.

“Good fish.” Bellick whispered to him as they left. On the their way out the door, Michael Scofield was being led in by another guard. He gave Toby a knowing and apologetic look. Somehow it didn’t feel demeaning when Scofield gave him that look. Maybe it was because it easily could have been Michael in his place that day. Toby almost wished it had been, but he couldn’t bring himself to wish that on anyone.

Toby had spent most of the morning in the infirmary, so he missed breakfast. Much to his surprise his stomach growled for the ‘food’. Bellick sent him out into the yard where everyone else was currently. Toby wasn’t met with fanfare exactly, but everyone seemed to watch him out of the corner of their eyes. He tried his best to walk without a limp, but it proved difficult. And even if he could pretend he wasn’t ashamed, his bruised face and his screams the previous night told everything.

Toby made his way to the chess boards where he stopped to seek the company of Charles. They didn’t speak for a long time. There was really nothing to say, plus Toby could use the distraction. They played nearly an entire game with him awkwardly leaning over the table, terrified to even try sitting and still throbbing with pain despite the medication the doc had administered. He moved his queen in to put Charles in check, when someone cleared their throat behind Toby. Westmoreland looked up at the person and then back to Toby. His eyes apologized as he stood up and walked away. Toby didn’t feel angry at him for leaving. Charles had to protect himself too.

“You seem to have gotten yourself lost on your way to the bleachers, boy.” A hand pressed onto his shoulders. Toby took in a breath, knots forming in his stomach again and slowly turned from the game board. Facing T-Bag again was harder than Toby could have imagined. “You won’t be doing that again, now will you, Sunny.”

Toby’s face lost all color as T-Bag produced the picture of his daughter that had been left in the pants from the previous night. “Please, give me that back. T-Bag, please.” Desperation shook his voice. His hand raised to take the photo back but T-Bag pulled it away.

“Now, now, Sunny. You’re gonna have to earn it back.” He smiled. “I see why you were keeping her to yourself. Such a beautiful young woman she is.”

“She is a child, you sick fuck!” Toby nearly shouted, his hands balled into fists by his sides. T-Bag’s smiled slipped a little, but he only responded with a tsk-tsk before shoving the image in his back pocket.

“That is no way to get what you want, Sunny.” His voice was sickening sweet as he pulled his pocket out for Toby to take. “Let’s head back over to the family, eh.” It was not a question. Toby fought with himself but finally ended up taking a hold of the wretched cloth. He felt such shame as he was walked across the yard like a dog on a leash.

Toby was forced to follow T-Bag everywhere he went including showers, where T-Bag insisted they share one nozzle. Beings Toby was so sore, Bagwell took his time soaping up the boy and made Toby do the same to him. It was degrading and deranged, but T-Bag took joy from watching Toby’s cheeks flare red as he was forced to touch Bagwell’s cock. He supposed he might as well get used to it, beings he doubted that rape would be a one time deal.

It wasn’t until dinner that day that Toby was finally allowed to be alone. He didn’t know where Bagwell had run off to, but Toby was glad he wasn’t behind him in line anymore. He did see that the Purity was keeping watch over him in T-Bag’s absence, but they didn’t touch him. He was nearly done having food plopped on his tray when a commotion occurred near the beginning of the line. CO’s barged into a side room and seconds later exited with two Italians in cuffs and one T-Bag on a stretcher. He would have smiled had he not been so confused and it would have hurt too much to bother with.

Then he noticed Abruzzi and Michael talking in line. Toby’s eyes caught Micheal’s for but a second in passing. Somehow he felt that the young man had everything to do with what just happened to that wretched pedophile. Tobias finished gathering his food and headed to his lonely table only to be grabbed and ushered to the Aryan’s instead. He didn’t look up and he didn’t speak. He just ate as quickly as he could, leaning heavily on one hip to relieve pressure on his stitches, while the rest of the group chattered on, angry about what happened to their leader but knowing they couldn’t do a damn thing to Abruzzi.

Toby was dragged outside as he was not allowed to be alone with Bagwell in the infirmary. Someone might try to step in and take their bitch with him gone for a while. The next day they were less strict, they let Toby play chess with Charles and walk about basically alone though they kept him close, keeping an eye on his whereabouts at all times, and forced him to still eat at their table. During tier time Toby slipped up to the second level, Michael Scofield was standing in the walkway, leaning against the rails overlooking the rest of the cell block.

“Hi...I’m Tobias Locke.” Toby turned to mimic Micheal’s stance. “Did you have

anything to do with what happened to T-Bag?”

Michael smirked. “No. That was Abruzzi’s way of telling me that he and I have an understanding.” His smiled faded and he finally looked at Toby, whose eyes were black and his cut lip just starting to scab, realizing that others have it worse than himself. Toby nodded. It was no secret, what happened.

“Do you think if I talked to Abruzzi, would he help me out too?” Toby hoped with all his heart. He was willing to owe the mob to get away from that man. Michael stared for a second before shaking his head slightly. They both looked forward again. “It’s fine, I get it.”

“I have something Abruzzi wants.” Michael ran a hand along his scalp. “Do you have anything you can offer him?” Toby wracked his brain but he didn’t know anything about crime activity out nor inside these walls. His first dabble in crime was what landed him here.

With a sigh he grumbled, “No...” With that he pushed away from the railing and walked back down, stopping in to see Westmoreland. He almost laughed when he found him again reading Huckleberry Finn.

“Don’t you get tired of that story?” he chortled.

Charles smiled up at him. “Never. I’ve read it so much I could recite the entire book by heart, but somehow it always lifts my spirits to read it again.” Toby lowered himself to the floor of the cell, his stitches pulled slightly causing him to flinch.

“I am going to need to find myself a book like that.” He laughed despite the pain.

* * *

T-Bag’s cell wasn’t so bad when the guy wasn’t there. Even the purity wasn’t so bad. All they did was make racist/sexist jokes and keep everyone away from Toby. Toby almost felt untouchable these days, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before The Bagman returned from the infirmary. He dreaded that day, but that wasn’t today and that was all he cared about.

He spent yard time and tier time with Charles. He ate all alone at his table when the Aryans allowed him to. When he was locked up in his cell, he sketched on a pad of paper he got from the commissary. Turns out, he wasn’t half bad as an artist. He was drawing one of his daughter holding her favorite teddy bear. The poor thing was practically a rag last he saw it. Anna had been dragging that thing around since her third birthday. It was all he could afford to give her. Toby could still remember how she squealed when she opened the paper bag he’d tucked the animal into. You would have thought he had bought a tv or a big girl bed the way she was overjoyed by the plushy toy.

Toby was so proud of himself for that piece of happiness he had brought into her life. Anna had named that bear and he became her best friend. Even when she started school. She would place Jerry in the bottom of her backpack to accompany her and her classmates on their walk back home. There was a group of them that lived in the same apartment building, so Toby felt safe allowing her to walk home with them while he was at work. He missed out on so much because of his dead end jobs. She locked the doors behind her, made her own Pb and j, did all her homework. Some evenings when Toby had to work late, he would come home to her little tooth brush on the counter and her snuggled up with Jerry in her bed.

She was more adult at age eight than any child Toby knew. He would kiss her on her cheek before turning out the lights. Sometimes she would wake up and tell him about her day, but most of the time she just smiled in her sleep. It was like she inherently knew he was there. She had had to grow up way too fast and late at night he mourned her childhood. She never even knew that she missed it.

Toby broke away from his thoughts, setting the drawing beside him on his bunk. With a sigh he jumped down and headed to the front of his cell for count. He didn’t have to wait for the correctional officers to call it out anymore. He knew when it was time. Being on the main floor, it didn’t take long for him to be checked off. He was about to return to his sketch when Bellick shouted out about a runner and the alarms went off. Toby mashed himself against the bars trying to see who was going to get their freedom.

Unfortunately he couldn’t quite see, but the excitement of it all was intoxicating. Toilet paper streamers floated down from the upper levels and the cons roared. Everyone was rooting for the escapee. The excitement didn’t last long though, as Michael Scofield was led back into the cell block. Word was that he was working late in the warden’s office on something. The guy was a college boy, so it made sense that the warden would have him working up there. All in all, Toby was still bummed that no one actually did get out of here.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been getting so hot outside that Toby was taking the only comfort he could in the air conditioning of the prison, that was until it broke that morning. The sun baked him outside and the sweltering heat in the stuffy building was ruining him. He had been soaking his face in the sink in the corner of his cell when over the loudspeaker he heard the only thing that chilled him to his core. “Theodore Bagwell for reentry to gen. pop. from infirmary.”

Toby couldn’t move. He heard the greetings and congratulations for his return being thrown about just outside the cell. He dipped his face back into the water he had filled the sink with, hoping to drown himself before T-Bag stepped into the cell. He was not that fortunate. “Mm, Sunny. You know just how to make a man feel welcome.” T-Bag admired Toby’s ass as he bent over the sink. Toby straightened but continued to stare straight ahead. He jerked the plug from the drain and took a moment to center himself as best as he could before turning to face the monster that haunted his dreams in his physical absence. He'd have taken nightmares over having him standing there before him once again.

All he could do was gulp down the fear lodged in his throat. “Back so soon, T-Bag?” He released a timid breathy laugh, running his hand roughly through his hair.

“Not soon enough, Sunny.” the older man voiced in a throaty, lascivious manner. T-Bag strode forward, backing Toby into the now drained sink. “I was thinkin' a lot about you while I was away.” He placed his hands on the mirror behind Toby, effectively caging him in, and took a deep breath into the boy’s neck.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen, Theodore...”

“Do ya really want to tell me no again, boy.” The older man pressed his body against Toby’s, who merely trembled and looked away.

“N-no, what I mean to say is that, well, um, I still have the stitches...” Toby whimpered. Out of the corner of his eye, T-Bag leered, trailing one hand down Toby’s side and back between his legs. The boy sucked in a scared breath that sent a surge straight to T-Bag’s groin.

“There are other ways for you to satisfy me, Sunny. Don’t you worry none.” With that, T-Bag patted Toby’s cheek and left the cell. Toby crumpled to the floor once he was alone. Dragging shaky breaths he tried to calm himself as the walls vibrated around him, his world swaying and shifting. After a few moments, he stood up to lean against his bed and rolled his head back onto the mattress. He blinked away the panic that had flooded his vision and threatened to knock him out.

Whatever business T-Bag had out there, it didn’t keep him away long enough. Within the hour, he returned to their cell. Toby was back in his sketchbook, this time working on one of a very angry looking Bellick. That was until T-Bag snatched the pad away from him.

“Well, well, good with your hands, Sunny?” T-Bag looked up at Toby through his lashes, like a predator to prey. “Draw me in here?” He began flipping through the pages.

“No, now could I please have it back.” Toby thrust his hand in the space between them. T-Bag glanced up again, then tossed the pad on the table near the sink. He grasped hold of Toby’s wrist and pulled him from the bunk. The young man nearly crashed to the floor, but caught himself just in time.

“Why don’t you let down that sheet, boy?” He pushed Toby towards the front of the cell.

“How can you even consider...that...in this heat?” Toby stuttered, facing the cell bars.

“How can I think of anything else with a boy like you sharing my cell...” The rapist was much closer than Toby anticipated. He swallowed hard and turned around, staring face to face with Bagwell. “Let down the sheet, Sunny.” Fearing another beating Toby, reached above his head and pulled the tape off the blanket. It fell into place too quickly for Toby’s liking. Blocked from view of the CO’s, he felt as though the walls were closing in on him. “On your knees.”

Toby started to protest but eventually just allowed himself to be pushed down by T-bag. He fell to his knees gracefully. T-Bag lifted his head, forcing the boy to look into his eyes as his thumb traced his lips. Suddenly the man’s grip tightened and Toby knew fresh bruises would be found there the next day.

“You ever suck dick before, Sunny?”

“No,” Toby whispered through teeth clenched tightly, beginning to feel truly terrified.

“If ya do as I say this time, it won’t be too difficult to get the hang of.” T-Bag released his erection from his pants’ strangle hold on it. Toby looked away from the repulsing member bobbing in his face. “Look at me, boy, and open your fuckin' mouth.”

“Please don’t make me do this T-Bag. The lights are all on!” He pleaded with his captor. T-Bag only tightened his jaw and smacked Toby across the face.

“Keep talkin’ Bitch.” Toby grunted from the pain and squeezed his eyes shut. He hissed a few breaths before T-Bag turned his face to look up at him. “Mouth open or I will break your jaw.” He watched in amusement as the boy’s mouth slowly dropped open. His pink lips inched closer to T-Bag’s aching prick. He leered in avid fascination as the smaller man timidly stuck his tongue out and licked the head of T-Bag’s dick.

Toby had to concentrate his hardest to keep the revulsion he was feeling from coming up his throat. He just had to get through this, live through prison, and he would get to go back to his little girl. “Mmm, that’s the way Sunny.” T-Bag’s hands wound themselves into Toby’s hair. He gripped the boy’s tangles in large fistfuls, forcing Toby’s head down on his dick.

The invasive member slammed into Toby’s throat. He gagged and pushed against Bagwell’s thighs. “I can’t breathe!” Tobias wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, desperately trying to find a way to avoid putting that thing back in his mouth. T-Bag didn’t share his sentiments. He pulled the squirming boy by his hair to the wall, shoving his head against the stone. When Toby gasped T-Bag returned his leaking cock to the boy’s mouth. He thrust in, pushing himself down the boy’s throat. Toby gagged but couldn’t move, there was no room to move away.

He screwed his eyes shut, fighting to breathe passed the dick in his throat. “Oh, Sunny, you take dick like a pro.” He began to thrust faster, harder. He was pummeling the boy’s face, as his hands in Toby’s hair forced the kid’s face into him as well. Toby felt tears slide down his cheeks as T-Bag buried the boy’s head in his crotch. He held Toby there as he shot seed into the younger man’s mouth.

Toby tried to swallow it all as it was coming, but there was too much. It dribbled out of his lips as T-Bag pulled slowly from his aching maw. He patted Toby’s cheek and slid his fingers through the escaping splooge. “You sure you’ve never done that before, boy?” T-bag licked his cooling spunk from his fingertips. Toby could still smell Theodore’s pubic musk even though the revolting thing was again safely tucked away.

T-Bag lounged back in his bunk thoroughly satisfied for now. He watched the boy come to grips with what had just happened, his lips trembled as though he might break down. The emotional avalanche was barred mere moments away from total annihilation. Composed, Toby got to his feet, trudging back over to the sink where he washed his mouth out repeatedly but he doubted he would ever be rid of that taste. How could that excuse of a man stomach to taste it himself? Toby thought angrily. Why would anyone taste their own sauce? It was sick.

“Wet me a cloth while y'er over there n' then I need ya to cup your hands, Sunny.” The rapist ordered from his bed. Curiosity more than obedience pushed Toby to do as he was told. There was no way Bagwell would be ready to torture Toby some more. Not that soon. Toby stood in front of the bunks but kept out of reach, fearing Theodore meant to cause more pain. He formed a bowl with his hands, reluctant to put them within reach still. “Get over here, Boy, I am not going to hurt ya. Jeez, you’d think I was a leper.”

Shuffling into the danger zone, Toby stared at T-Bag’s hands. He didn’t want to let them out of his sight for a second. To his surprise the older man pulled out a bag of walnuts and dumped them in Toby’s palms. He then laid back, eating each nut one by one with the cool hand towel draped over his eyes. Toby was flabbergasted. He had gone from plaything to food bowl in minutes.

The heat was beginning to get to him. Sweat dripped into his eyes and he wiped it away with his sleeve. He had been standing there drenched in sweat for probably a good hour, while T-Bag covered his eyes and forehead with a cool wet washcloth.

Toby sighed. “Man, it’s hot in here.” He wiped at his face again on his shoulder.

“Did I say you could talk Sunny? You'll know when I want you to open your mouth again.” T-Bag barely lifted the cloth from his face. He took another nut from Toby’s hands; popping it in his mouth.

“Locke, infirmary.” An officer stood in the doorway of the cell. Toby turned and dropped the nuts onto the table. He dusted his hands off on his pants before facing the guard again. With a short nod, they left. Toby almost wanted to smile, finally getting away from Bagwell. Even if it was only for a half an hour or so.

“You alright, Locke?” Toby gave the man a sideways glance. No CO spoke like that to inmates. He had to be a rookie. “I mean, being in with Bagwell and all?”

“Yeah, Boss, I’m fine.” Toby lied. Fine. It sounded like a cuss word to his mind and tasted on his tongue like the spunk he’d been forced to swallow. Toby was far from fine. He was led into the examination room, the same one he had been in after he was raped. Again he stood at the window, but the sun was torturing him rather than relaxing this time.

Toby rolled his shoulders back, trying to stand taller. Maybe if he had been big like Scofield he could have bested T-Bag that night. Maybe he wouldn’t be a bitch, a punk, a whore. Toby spun to face the doctor as she opened the door. “Good afternoon, Doctor Tancredi.” His voice sounded far away, like it wasn’t him at all.

“Nice to see you, Mr. Locke.” She responded. Her words kind but rehearsed. He didn’t mind. The rookie CO closed the glass paned door behind her as he waited on the other side. “You've gone long enough that your body should be able to finish healing on its own. So, today, we remove the stitches. I am going to need you to undress and put this gown.” She placed it on the examination table, turning to leave with out another word.

It was much easier for Toby to accept her presence now than it had been before. He knew he would most likely be seeing her often for the beatings T-Bag liked to give. He gently touched the fresh bruises upon his face. Toby redressed quickly, wanting to get this over with. The stitches were becoming more of a nuisance than help; though Toby feared when Bagwell found out they were gone. Dr. Tancredi was obliged to work quickly, as she needed to get down to sickbay where there were many inmates suffering of heat related illnesses. It wasn’t long before Toby was redressed and cuffed for the walk back to A block. On the way, Bob the Rookie picked up the one and only Lincoln Burrows, The Sink as he is referred to by other inmates. He had shot and killed the Vice President’s brother some time back and was waiting on death row now. He still plead his innocence. Toby had also heard that he and Scofield were brothers, though they didn’t look much alike. They both had hard eyes and short hair, both towered over Toby. Who didn’t?

The CO’s walkie crackled, “Cell block A has been compromised. All doors to B block have been shut down.”

“A block?! That’s where Micheal’s at.” Burrows questioned the rookie. He pleaded to know what was going on. Bob brushed him off with a sorry, which was also weird for a correctional officer to say to an inmate. Lincoln warned him against doing so again.

“Hey, Boss, where are you going to take me if A Block is locked down?” Toby changed the subject. He didn’t get his answer. Immediately following the question, sounds of shouting and feet pounding the linoleum ricocheted down the hall. Suddenly, a group of angry rioters led by none other than fucking T-Bag rounded the corner.

“I’ll be damned, a rookie CO and it ain’t even Christmas.” The southerner taunted.

“Get out of here, T-Bag.” Linc the sink threatened while taking Bob’s keys and uncuffing himself. He handed the keys to Toby, turning to face the group.

“Oh I see, you found him first. Finders, keepers. I respect that, I do, but I think we can work something out.” T-Bag gestured with a metal pipe in his hand. His crew stepped in closer behind him. Toby rushed to remove the metal bands, tossing them on the floor.

“What do ya got?” Sink responded, sounding almost bored. Toby shifted, watching the looks passed between Linc and Bagwell. He feared for the rookie. He knew what T-Bag was like and he couldn’t believe Lincoln was considering throwing the guy to these wolves.

“Well, though it pains me, I could loan my boy here to service you.” Lincoln shook his head, bewildered by the way T-Bag assumed he would take advantage of Toby. “Maybe I could get you some Demerol, some X. Make your last few weeks real good, now. Make you forget all about that big bad chair.” The pedophile continued.

“No deal.” Sink snorted.

“You gotta learn the art a negotiatin'.” T-Bag started to get angry. “Lesson one: bargaining position.” Inmates crashed against the doors behind Toby trying to get through, the doors Bob locked behind them just minutes ago. Toby backed away from them, but stopped when he saw how close it had put him to the other group. “Y'ers just changed, Sink.” T-Bag pointed the pipe at Lincoln.

“Take the pig!” An Aryan in the back shouted. The group surged forward, but T-Bag pushed them back. Bob tried to make a run for it, but Toby grabbed his shirt.

“What do you think you are doing, boss?” Toby cried over the noise. The badge would never make it through that crowd.

“I got get the hell out of here!” The pig panicked.

“How far do you really think you’d get?” Toby pushed him back behind Lincoln.

“Chill, Sink, no blood needs to spill.” T-Bag stepped forward, finally calming his group a little.

“Walk away...” Burrows let the threat hang in the air.

“We both know that ain’t gonna happen.” T-Bag shook his head like an animal, his eyes locked on prey. Those cold beads darted from Bob to Toby for a few seconds before returning to Lincoln. Linc gripped the cuffs like knuckle dusters. “You ever watch them safari shows, where a bunch a cheetahs just jump all up on an antelope. Guess which one you are?”

The flood gates opened, Toby attacked the nearest guy. Mainly it was them versus Linc, but Toby had to help. He knew they didn’t consider him a threat, that was probably the only reason he could take some of them out. After he had knocked two guys out of sorts, and Lincoln had taken down more than a few. They were overtaken. Toby and the CO were pinned against the fences being beaten, while Lincoln was still fighting against the on coming Purity. T-Bag bashed the metal pipe into the back of Linc’s head and the man fell to the floor. Blood oozed from his skull, but he was completely out.

“Tough little gorilla, ain’t he.” T-Bag muttered, out of breath. He then turned his attention to the two still receiving punches. “Sunny, where did you learn to fight like that? Hmm? That sure didn’t come up in our cell.” The man slithered up, almost pressing up to Toby. The younger man attempted to push himself away from Bagwell, but was stopped by the man punching him in the chest, back against the metal. “Maybe you wanted it, then. Mm.” T-Bag licked his lips. Toby shuddered and looked away, coughing a few times. T-Bag chuckled and patted his face. Then Toby and the CO were dragged along behind the group as they made their way back to A Block.


	6. Chapter 6

“Gentlemen! Oh, Gentlemen!” T-Bag called the attention of the rioters of gen. pop. He held up the bloodied rookie, like a prize kill. “I assure you, once Bob and I are done getting acquainted...everyone else will get their turn.” He turned to drag the poor man into a cell on the second tier. “We are gonna have ourselves a little fun. Now, don’t worry. I don’t got the blicky, my pipes are clean.” T-Bag assured his soon to be victim.

The CO broke away from T-Bag’s grasp, stumbling as fast as he could down the row. He was badly beaten and couldn’t keep up the hurried pace, T-Bag caught up to him easily. Toby pulled out of the grip an Aryan had on him and rushed up the other stairs to the tier. He ran towards the two, just as T-Bag climbed onto the fleeing man and peppered him with punches. Toby hurled himself at the convict. He managed enough force to knock him off of Bob.

Toby didn’t know what he was thinking, but Bob had been nice to him. He wasn’t like the other CO’s that turned a blind eye to the shit he was going through. The rookie was a good guy, he shouldn’t have to go through what Toby did. The young man didn’t know what to do once he had T-Bag on the floor. He didn’t feel powerful in this position. He felt even more scared, for once Bagwell saw what had happened, his eyes narrowed and hate filled every molecule of his body.

How dare his punk get in the way! Toby knew that he would be in for a royal beating. Hell, he might even die for this. T-Bag grabbed Toby’s shirt, dragging the boy’s face down to his own. “You have no idea how big of a mistake you just made, boy.” The man growled, spittle flying. T-Bag rolled the two of them over, maneuvering the struggling smaller man with practiced ease. Still holding onto wads of t-shirt, he drug Toby along. Toby tried to get to his feet and break away from T-Bag’s hold, but he kept tripping as he was propelled back towards the broken CO.

Bagwell, threw the rookie into a cell and Toby in after him. The CO landed in the middle of floor. Toby tripped over him, reaching out for anything to keep him from face planting. The young man landed on the sink, pulling it way too easily from the wall. He crashed to the floor and the metal unit landed on top of him. All present stared at the hole hidden behind the detached shitter.

“They’re breaking out...” T-Bag whispered, turning to notify the rioters below of his findings. “They’re breaking..!” His shout was cut off by the hand of Abruzzi clamping over it.

“Shhh...” The big Italian whispered an inch away from the rapist’s face. Toby turned his head as noise filtered through the hole. Suddenly Michael Scofield climbed from it, followed by his cellmate, Fernando Sucre. “Yeah, we have a problem.” Abruzzi shifted in the doorway of the cell.

“Yeah, that’s right. Yeah, Bob here has seen the hole. He has to go away.” T-Bag licked his lips, pulling from Abruzzi’s grip. Michael looked from Toby to Bob and placed his head against the wall. He sighed in frustration.  
Finally, he turned around, “No one’s going anywhere.”

“He has seen the hole, Pretty. And so has my boy, but I can handle him.” T-Bag winked at Toby and took a step towards Michael.

“So, have you.” Abruzzi pushed himself away from the open cell door. Fernando turned to Michael, saying something or another about a lock down idea. ‘This lock down turned riot was all Micheal’s fault?’ Toby couldn’t believe it.

“We gotta kill ‘im.” T-Bag suggested. Michael was not having that. He was no murderer.

“The cops are right outside and they will stay outside as long as they know we are keeping him alive.” Michael glanced down at the pitiful looking man. Blood smeared on his face, some still flowing from the broken skin on the bridge of his nose.

“But he is a guard, Scofield. He’s gonna squeal.” T-Bag was bewildered.

“What the hell does this have to do with you anyway.” Abruzzi stepped to T-Bag’s face. “This is not any of your concern.” T-Bag scoffed and turned again towards Michael.

“See, Bob here knows 'bout our secret. He knows 'bout OUR escape.” He smiled at Abruzzi. “So, it’s all a our concern, now ain't it?” T-Bag was shoved out of the cell and against the railing. Toby couldn’t catch what was said, but knew it was those escaping versus T-Bag. Toby wouldn’t want the guy to be let out in the real world either. The shell shock wore away and Toby finally crawled out from underneath the toilet. He put it back against the wall and stood in the corner, watching it all go down.

Michael left the cell and headed down to the main floor. Shortly after he returned heading back into the wall. He sent Fernando in as well, to work on some wall while Scofield went to sick bay. Toby’s head spun and he wasn’t sure if it was from the beating or the situation. “No one touches the CO. No one.” Michael stated, looking directly at T-Bag before going through the hole. To which, Bagwell merely sneered, curling his lip into a taunting smirk from just outside the cell’s bars.

“You gonna clue me in, Paison.” T-Bag returned to the cell prodding the mob boss. Toby didn’t see this day getting any better for him, and hoped it couldn’t get worse. While the mob boss reluctantly explained some of what was going on to Toby's tormentor, he helped move the rookie badge onto the bottom bunk. He was heavy but Toby managed. Bob thanked Toby quietly and the younger man nodded, afraid to speak with T-Bag breathing down both their necks. Toby sat down on the bed next to the guy as Abruzzi slipped out of the cell to go who knows where, hoping maybe if he was here, T-Bag would hurt him rather than Bob. He couldn’t tell you why he felt the need to protect the guy, but he couldn’t stomach allowing T-Bag to hurt him.

After a few minutes of silence, T-Bag reached across the cell from position against the wall and ripped the CO’s boots off. He pulled the shoe laces out and stuffed them in his pockets, returning to take the man’s belt. Toby sat up straight, stretching his arm out. He blocked T-Bag from touching Bob. The rapist chuckled, “Looks like the pig got himself a protector.” He turned to face Toby directly. “Move y'er hand Boy, or I will maim you.”

Toby glared at the older man and did not budge. “You aren’t going to hurt him T-Bag.”

“Tryin' to tell me what to do again. Ya sure are stupid, Sunny.” He backhanded Toby. “If you are so keen on me not touchin' your CO, then you can take off his belt for me.” T-Bag grabbed the boy by the back of the neck. He enjoyed seeing the younger man’s slender fingers shake slightly as they fumbled with the pigs pants. Arousal stirred in T-Bag, the belt now in hand. He released Toby and sat back against the wall.

“You’re not going to use that.” Sucre said over his shoulder, preparing to head into the wall himself.

“You makin’ up the rules now, Ese.” T-Bag retorted, still messing with his newly acquired items.

“It’s my house. You got a problem?” The Hispanic man tossed back.

“Yeah, I got a problem. We all do.” Bagwell sent a glare Bob’s way.

“No problem...” The CO muttered. “I swear to God, I’m not going to say anything. I didn’t SEE anything.” He tried to convince the cons he didn’t need to be killed.

“That’s right, Badge. You didn’t see nothing.” Fernando leaned into the hole.

“Wait, don’t leave.” Bob shivered with worry of being practically alone with T-Bag. He knew that Toby would do what he could but doubted it would be enough. Fernando eyed the southerner for a second, but he had to go.

“Sorry. I’ll be back.” He apologized, sliding through the wall.

“Don’t worry, CO. Alright. I’m not gonna hurt nobody. I’m part a the team now.” T-Bag reassured, while holding up a sheet to cover Sucre and the hole. “Sunny, get off your ass and move that back over.” He gestured at the toilet.

Toby pulled himself laboriously off the bunk as his stiff, tired muscles complained and bent to bring the toilet back to its normal position. T-Bag leered at his boy, “That’s the way. Mm, mmm, mm.” He pawed his fingers at his lower lip, letting go of the sheet once more. Toby settled back on the bunk and twiddled his fingers, looking anywhere but at Bagwell.

T-Bag stood up to tie the CO’s hands with the shoe laces around the bedpost. He couldn’t help but be amused at how Toby sat up straight when he neared the pig. When he had finished securing the badge, he took the time to steal the man’s wallet. Bagwell flipped through its contents once he was nestled back into his spot.

“Tyler Robert Hudson. That is fancy, CO. Oh and look at that address:144 Oak Park...what’s this?” He glanced up at the distraught man.

“Terrace.” The captive grumbled.

“Terrace...how do you swing that? Sounds like y'er about something, livin’ on a ...terrace.” He whispered the last word. “I can’t wait to kick it on a terrace. What..ohhh oh, this here must be your daughter.” He held up a photo of a beautiful young girl in a red gown. “Prom?”

“Put it back.” Bob demanded. T-Bag smiled at his reaction. He loved messing with father’s and he had two in his company right now. Sucking his lower lip into his mouth, T-Bag leaned forward.

“You know what they say about a prom dress...don’cha?” he put the top edge of the picture in his mouth. “She didn’t come home that night, did she? No she wore that ALL night long. The next morning she had to throw that dress away in the trash can behind the motel so her Momma didn’t see the...”

“Shut the fuck up, T-Bag!” Toby snarled. His fists were clenched against his thighs, trying his hardest not to attack the bastard.

“Oh, my dear Sunny, I almost forgot about your little girl.” T-Bag smiled sickeningly sweet. “She isn’t quite old enough for this conversation, but your Daddy instincts just kick right in don’t they.” He laughed, leaning back against the wall again. He reached into his pocket and produced the little girl. It drove Toby mad that the sick fuck had his daughter on him all the time. T-Bag chuckled, “I’m starting a right..collection, ain’t I?” He admired the two photos side by side.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. What the hell are you doing?” Abruzzi appeared in the doorway seemingly from nowhere.

“I’m just kicking it with Deputy Dog, you know, talking women.” He gave a sly smirk to the two on the bunk as the pictures disappeared into his trousers.

“I’ll be very clear here, because you and I face an evolutionary gap. You aren’t going to hurt this man. We are locked into this..thing, now. Understand?” Abruzzi spat the words into the pedophile’s face. “And he’s all the leverage you have, hillbilly.” T-Bag just stood there and took the verbal abuse. Toby was astonished by Bagwell’s composure, though it wasn’t like he could do anything to Abruzzi. The man practically ran this place as much as the guards themselves.

“Thank you.” The pitiful guard uttered.

“You’re welcome.” Abruzzi responded like an afterthought. “Now, do we have an understanding?” T-Bag paced a few laps before returning his glare to the greasy king of Fox River.

“I’m on your side now. You understand me? I’m just goin’ with the flow.” He turned to leave the cell. “You let me know when your done with the, uh, leverage. Come on, Sunny, let’s go.” T-Bag pulled his pocket out. They didn’t go far, just to the top of the staircase. Toby stared with hatred at the fabric in his hand. Bagwell didn’t pay him any mind for he was keeping an eye on the cell, waiting to go back inside.

* * *

It didn’t take long for Abruzzi to disappear through the hole. After he was gone, T-Bag and Toby returned, not for lack of Toby trying to persuade Bagwell to leave it alone. Theodore was not in the mood to deal with Toby’s shit. With a few swift strikes to the face and Toby was quietly holding the pocket like a good bitch should, his cheek a little rosier than normal. T-Bag forced the boy onto the floor right beside where he stood peering into the mirror.

“I had such bad skin at your daughter’s age. Yacne, they called me.” He pulled the photo out, his thumb tracing her form. “She looks like all them girls that made fun of me.” T-Bag chuckled in a way that said he found no humor in the subject. Then, he moved in, inches away from Bob’s terrified face. “After I kill you, I’m crawl out that hole and call me up a limousine. Then me and your baby, we’re going to the prom...” The rapist bobbed his head in mock thrusts.

T-Bag turned and smiled at Toby. He winked and sat back putting his hand on the inside of Toby’s thigh. “When we get out a here Sunny, I think you and I should go road trippin’. I got places to go 'n could use the company.” He squeezed Toby lightly and rubbed hand up and down the boy’s leg a few times. His motions only interrupted by Micheal’s rhino of a brother storming into the cell shouting his name. T-Bag jumped to his feet nearly tripping over Toby.

“You son of a bitch.” Lincoln growled, grabbing T-Bag by the throat and pressing him against the back wall still clutching the open cuff in his fist. Anger and worry burning in his eyes as the last he saw of the wiry Southerner was the moment the metal pipe bashed his head into swift slumber.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I didn’t touch him! I didn’t touch him,” T-Bag threw his hands up to protect himself. “Things have changed since we last met. Okay?” The toilet shifted out of the way as Sucre and Abruzzi stepped through. “Relax partner, I am in on it now. I know all about it. So does the CO.”

Lincoln exchanged victims, snatching up Sucre and pulling him out of the cell to the railing. Toby scrambled to his feet to avoid being trampled in all the excitement. A warning sounded over the speakers, whoever was called in to shut down the riot was waiting just outside, preparing to charge in and they were advising all inmates to return to their cells or suffer the consequences. With loud buzzers, they burst in. Michael returned to the cell through the doorway mere seconds later with his big brother in tow.

“Alright, let’s get everyone out of here. Especially him.” Michael looked to Bob.

“Don’t worry about it. I will take care of him myself.” T-Bag stood in front of the bunks, eying the scared man.

“You’re not going to kill him.” Michael turned away from the hole.

“I’m never coming back here.” Bob tried to justify his survival.

“It’s over! We don’t need him no more!”

“You’re not going to kill him!”

“Are you so stupid, you’re goin’na let him walk out that front door...” T-Bag shoved Michael against the wall. Lincoln grabbed Bagwell’s shoulder spinning him away from his brother. “After all he’s seen?!” T-Bag continued his debate into the new face. Lincoln ignored him; pulled the bloodied CO off of the bed and led him out of the cell. Abruzzi threatened him, holding the man’s license which had his address on it. If the group had any problems, he would send people after Bob and his family.

T-Bag dragged Toby from the cell by the nape of his neck, still angry about letting the CO go. “Get out!” Michael shouted behind them as they went. Abruzzi shoved him and Toby in the opposite direction as Bob.

“Just forget about it.” He pushed T-Bag again, before heading to his own cell in the mess of inmates running all over the place. Bagwell pulled he and Toby into an empty cell and pressed his finger to Toby’s questioning lips. After he saw Abruzzi fly past the cell door, he slid into the flow going the other way. Toby ran after him, trying to reach him before he got to the guard.

Convicts bumped into Toby. They shoved him, tripped him. Without Bagwell around, he was still the pretty boy they hated. Because of them, Toby arrived at T-Bag’s side as Bob’s body fell over the railing and the blood drenched shank get wiped clean on T-Bag's already blood stained shirt before being hidden away once more. “You bastard...” Toby couldn’t muster anger, all he could see is that man’s daughter. Another family waiting for a man who wouldn’t come home. He saw the man he had killed. He saw his own daughter.

T-Bag shook Toby from his thoughts, dragging him back the way they had come. As they passed Scofield, T-Bag leaned in towards him whispering, “One for the team...” Canisters of tear gas and mask covered officers filled the main floor. Toby and Bagwell arrived in their cell just shy of the doors slamming shut. Adrenaline and regret pumped through Toby’s system as he watched them cart away Bob’s mangled body. Across the way, Toby saw Westmoreland and he knew by the look on his face, that Charles had seen what happened to poor Bob. Toby wasn’t alone in his sadness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, a mass post of the first 6 chapters to get you going. Can't say I don't care about you guys now, ay?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have another chapter buddies. :)

****The guards were on a rampage. They were tossing every cell, looking for the killer of their good friend Bob. They knew that one of the scum in here had the photo of his daughter and they were going to find him. Toby watched from his bunk, Bagwell was getting nervous. Every cell tossed narrowed the search for him. He played with the photo in his pocket, trying to find a way to get out of this mess.

Eventually, it was yard time and Toby reluctantly held onto T-Bag’s pocket. He hated being led around the place like a damn lap dog, but he had learned the price of being disobedient. Toby preferred T-Bag’s gentle, happy fuckings over his angry, brutal ones. Dr. Tancredi and Toby had seen too much of each other by Toby’s count.

None of the potential escapees wanted Bagwell going with them,and Toby was shunned as well because he was always in tow of the pedophile. In the yard, the two walked up on a conversation that went silent. “New York, California, St. Louis...what are we talking about?” Bagwell asked, stringing together bits he'd been able to catch before the group closed down. He just knew they were code names to something in this escape plan.

“Baseball, actually.” Michael covered from the middle of the pack sitting on the benches.

“Now, that’s something I know quite a lot about.” T-Bag smacked Toby’s hand from his pocket and put his leg up on the closest bench.

“Too bad, conversation’s over.” Abruzzi stood up and the others followed suit.

“Aw, now don’t play me like that. I know y’all think I’m going to get popped for killing Bob. Might even take a walk yourself and make sure I do, but if I go down for the CO, I might just go take a walk of my own. Tell ‘em all about that little hole you got behind your toilet...” He pulled his pocket out again, waiting for Toby to take hold of it. “So, you see, if I ain’t through that hole...no one is.”

The group walked away, pretending they didn’t hear a word of what was said. Toby turned to T-Bag trying to keep his voice aloof. “Thanks for mentioning me. I don’t want to be stuck in here any more than you do.” T-Bag chuckled and messed up Toby’s hair in an endearing way.

“Course you are comin', Boy. How could I leave tail like you behind to be used by others? Ya know how I feel ‘bout sharin' my toys.” They followed the rest of the inmates inside. The cell block still smelled slightly like the tear gas, but it was fading. Toby felt sick every time it hit him. The riot and the rape that followed it were all that came to mind. T-Bag had had his fun reminding Toby where his place was after his insolence that day.

Bagwell strode the two up to Michael and Abruzzi conversing on the second tier rails. Again their conversation died when they saw T-Bag swagger up the stairs. “Been doin’ a little thinking, Sunny and I are gonna need PI cards...that’s where this whole thing is going down, is it not?”

“They’re on their way.” Abruzzi snorted. Obviously lying.

“Y'erslow walkin' me, but I am goin' with ya in this endeavor. Or, I got a nice singin' voice otherwise.” T-Bag stepped around Michael and Abruzzi a little too closely, forcing Toby to brush against them on his way by. Toby hoped they didn’t take it personally. T-Bag planted him in their cell, as the older man needed to run an errand. From the doorway, Toby’s eyes followed Bagwell to the cell of his right hand man in the Alliance.

Trokey was in on drug charges, he ran a good portion of the trafficking in Fox River. All that didn’t go through Abruzzi, went through Trokey and the Alliance. He was the only man in here that T-Bag seemed to trust, but whatever it was he wanted from the guy, he did not receive it. Bagwell’s face was utter stone as he left Trokey’s cell. He looked like he could kill the next person that spoke to him. Toby spun around and jumped up into his bunk, trying his best to stay out of T-Bag’s way. Of course that was impossible. Staying out of T-Bag’s way was like trying to outrun a tornado on foot. It didn’t happen. As soon as he returned to the cell he ordered Toby from his blanket fortress. After an internal debate, Toby crawled down to face the man.

“I am in quite a bind. As you can see.” T-Bag gestured behind himself, to the guards nearing ever closer. “Now, bein' under my protection elicits certain favors, as I am sure you have noticed.” He laughed at his own joke. “I can offer you a trade, as it goes, I am in need of assistance. You take a walk, tell Mr. Bellick over there you know who the cop killer is. Tell him Trokey did it, ya hear? In return, you will be left alone this evening and all of tomorrow.”

Toby thought the pay off was weak, but he would take just about any amount of time not worried about T-Bag jumping him. That is, if T-Bag kept his word. “That, and I want the photo of my daughter back.” Toby glared. He knew he was pressing his luck, but having T-Bag need him had to be a rare thing. He needed to take advantage of his power here.

T-Bag laughed and placed a hand on Toby’s chest stepping close enough to share body heat. “You drive a hard bargain and I am pressed for time, but if you’re right quick, I am willin' to part with your lovely daughter.” Toby started to leave the cell, but T-Bag held him up. “Now would be inopportune, as I have yet to plant the incriminating evidence.”

“Fine, when would you prefer?” Toby folded his arms over his chest, blocking Bagwell from replacing his earlier position. “And when does my ‘reward’ begin?”

“You get your photo and your day after Trokey is in the SHU.” The older man gripped Toby’s wrists. “And don’t you think of turning me in instead. Don’t think I haven’t made some calls. I know that your kid is out in Cali. I wouldn’t hesitate to place another call, if I were to go down for this Bob thing.” Toby’s mouth dropped open in fear and awe. He couldn’t understand how nor why Theodore figured out where Anna was. He felt sick to his stomach as he thought about the pedophile being loosed on the world again, knowing her location.

A shudder wound its way through Toby. “Nothing will happen to her as long as Trokey takes the fall for this?” T-Bag nodded, a smile spreading across his face.

“That and you only get tomorrow.” Toby stepped back, ripping his hands from Bagwell’s grip. “Hey, hey. You think tonight is worth more than your little girl’s safety?”

“Quit changing the rules...”

“Quit upping the price, Sunny.” T-Bag slouched against Toby’s bunk, his fingers playing with a nipple through his shirt.

“What do you want tonight?” Toby asked, defeated.

“That’s more like it.” T-Bag stood up straight. “I’m going to make you cum all over yourself, all in the name of your precious daughter.” He gloated, a sick smirk plastered on his face as Toby turned away from him shaking with anger.

* * *

Guards standing outside the current cell being tossed pushed Toby away as he attempted to get to Bellick, who was inside doing the tossing. “Back off, convict.” They growled, shoving Toby again. One even took grip on his club that hung loosely from his hip. Toby tensed his jaw and stepped forward again.

“I need to speak with Officer Bellick.” Toby was surprised by how confident he had sounded. “I know who killed Bob.” That caught their attention. Suddenly, they were more than happy to let him into the cell. Bellick spun around, clearly not trusting that Toby had any real information.

“Yeah? And what do you want for this information, Locke?” Bellick had been around long enough to know that those with information only stepped forward if they stood to gain something. Toby however had nothing to ask for from Bellick. If he requested a new cell, which he really wanted to ask for, then T-Bag would be angry and the deal broken. Toby would likely be killed and his daughter would be fair game once the sicko was out and about. Though it pained him, he had to stick with Bagwell for now.

“Nothing, Sir. Bob was a good man...he didn’t deserve to die.” Toby didn’t even have to lie. Bob was the only officer that had treated him well. Not as an equal, but well. Bellick scoffed at Toby, clearly not buying that an inmate would care in the slightest for the well-being of a CO.

“Let’s hear that information, Sunshine.” Bellick put his own spin on the twisted prison nickname T-Bag had issued Toby. The insult carried a heavy weight, Toby wanted to attack the man. He wanted to hurt him for putting him in with that psycho, for being so cruel.

“Trokey.” That was all he could push passed his clenched jaw and bared teeth. It was enough for the pigs, though. They rounded up and charged across the way. Toby slunk back to his hole, feeling terrible for letting Trokey go down for this. The CO’s were going to tear the guy apart and he wasn’t even the one who deserved it. They found the picture of Bob’s daughter lying beneath the racist’s mattress and with that in hand, they tackled the confused and angry Trokey. As they dragged him away, he connected the dots and started thrashing and screaming his head off at Bagwell.

“Ya killed a guard. At least take your punishment with dignity, Trokey. No use trying to throw me under the bus.” Bagwell brushed him off. Toby was unpleasantly surprised at how easy it was for T-Bag to frame what used to be his closest ally. “You did well, Sunny.” He brushed a hand across Toby’s hip and forearm as he passed. Toby stayed outside of the cell as long as possible.

He looked up to see the group of prison breakers stared down at him and the scene. They wanted T-Bag to go down for this, to get him out of their hair. He didn’t blame them. Under different circumstances he would have enjoyed that too. As it were, only Michael looked somewhat relieved. He knew Bagwell was not a dog who barked without biting. He would have squealed on all of them.

Blinking away thoughts of what could have, would have, maybe even should have happened; he knew he had done the right thing for his daughter...Toby just hoped it wouldn’t come back to haunt him. T-Bag lounged in the back of the cell, sitting on the chair leaned back against the table. He watched Toby from this spot, balancing on two chair legs. Toby was amusing; Maytag, his previous bitch with the faux hawk, had given up with in a day. He was easily broken and grew boring just as quickly. Toby on the other hand continued to fight him for any victory, no matter how small. Like getting the photo of his daughter back, that was an interesting kick against the chains. T-Bag liked that he would do so much for a photo, even willingly give his body to him.

Theodore almost wished he had more to take from Toby, to negotiate terms again. Making Toby bargain for freedoms; it brought an unusual thrill to T-Bag’s day. He leered suggestively as the young man finally made his way into the cell; the bars sliding shut behind him. There was an air of nervousness, but not fear this time. Toby had done as he was asked. T-Bag let his mouth twist into a smile and pressed the final two legs of the chair to the ground. He stood slowly and made his way passed his boy, who flinched away from him into the wall.

This time, T-Bag let down the sheet himself. He heard Toby scurry to the back of the cell before he finally turned to face him. Toby was clenching and unclenching his fists, he shifted his weight side to side between his feet. T-Bag soaked in the image of Toby.

“Get on the bunk, Sunny.” T-Bag breathed. He watched in avid fascination as Toby huffed a breath and forced himself to follow through with the order. He sat himself on the edge of the bunk. Still tense, ready to jump. T-Bag slowly made his way over the boy. Toby shivered when he slid a hand down his neck and arm. T-Bag leaned in over the younger man, holding his face in one hand, he pressed their lips together. Toby’s mouth tightened and he attempted to pull his face from Bagwell’s. “Tsk, tsk, that is no way to get what you want..”

T-Bag’s hot rancid breath was like a wave over Toby’s face. The younger man swallowed down his disgust and pushed his head forward. His lips brushed against T-Bag’s for a brief moment. Toby couldn’t make himself lean all the way in to kiss the man. T-Bag snagged his hand in Toby’s locks and pushed his face the rest of the way, locking the two together. Bagwell bit lightly at Toby’s plump lower lip, his tongue sliding over Toby’s reluctant mouth. Eventually, he nudged it open and conquered the boy’s sweet entrance. His tongue danced across Toby’s, their faces smashed against each other as T-Bag twisted to better his hold on the boy.

He pushed the smaller man down on the bunk, climbing on top of him though never breaking their kiss. Toby closed his eyes tightly, trying to find a happy place. Toby felt Bagwell’s hands wind themselves under his shirt, slowing pulling it over his head. Thoughts of his beautiful wife played in the back of Toby’s mind. Janice, with her long black hair and soft skin. T-Bag licked slow circles around a hard nipple before taking it in his mouth, sucking. A pleasurable gasp escaped Toby before he could stifle it. Bagwell chortled against his flesh.

A trail of fire scorched Toby’s flesh as T-Bag licked his way down his stomach. The man skillfully removed the rest of Toby’s clothing without removing himself from Toby’s body. “Lift y'er legs, boy.” The rapist moved to kiss Toby’s neck and shoulder, while his hands roamed freely over his anatomy. Fear gripped Toby and his body stiffened beneath Bagwell. “I ain't gonna to hurt ya, Sunny. Ya earned y'er pleasure. Now fuckin' lift y'er legs.” T-Bag looked directly into Toby’s eyes. His own tinged with anger, but it was smothered with lust. Toby turned his head to the side, he couldn’t look at T-Bag and feel the way he was. His arousal was not for this man, his body was betraying him and he hated it.

T-Bag again lowered himself and lifted Toby’s legs for him, laying nips and kisses to his inner thighs. The man’s mouth found its way to Toby’s crack. Swaying his head, he licked the entire length of Toby’s valley, over the hard line of tissue still scarring as it healed from that first night in Bagwell's cell, before entering his quivering hole. “Mmmmm, Sunny, I can almost taste myself in here.” T-Bag laughed again as Toby clenched around him. “Calm down, calm down.” He patted Toby’s flank as the young man tried to block him out.

Bagwell returned to his task, pulsing his tongue into the boy, winding it about. He then replaced it with his agile fingers, stroking against Toby’s prostate. Toby moaned and writhed; his dick lengthening against his stomach. “No, stop. I don’t want this.” He breathily begged.

“If ya want that picture back then you'll do as I say.” T-Bag ground his fingers harder in Toby, stroking strongly against his prostate. Toby bit his lip to keep in his moans, but his body was doing all the talking regardless. “N' y'er snake here says that ya do want this.” T-Bag reached up to grab hold of Toby’s face. “I want ya to jerk y'erself off.” He ordered. Toby began to decline but slowly lifted his hand to his hard member. He stroked it slowly, staring at the wire mesh above him. Again his thoughts went to his wife. She would be who he would think of when he came. It would be another small victory over T-Bag. He would only be the one tricking Toby’s body.

Pressure built in Toby’s stomach and he closed his eyes against his prison surroundings. Janice danced in his mind, her lithe body pressed against his, not Bagwell’s. T-Bag added a finger in Toby’s hole, thrusting them against his prostate as the boy beneath him came undone. White spindles spit across Toby’s stomach and he gasped her name, much to Theodore’s disapproval.

He sat back on his haunches, watching as the pleasure waned from Toby’s face to be replaced with embarrassment. He hurriedly stood and washed himself, throwing his clothes back on. He began to climb to his bunk when T-Bag latched onto the back on his trousers, pulling him back to the floor. “You are sleeping in my bunk tonight, Sunny.”

Toby’s mouth dropped open, “That wasn’t part of the deal...”

“Nor was lettin' ya call some bitch’s name as ya came. Get in the bunk.” T-Bag stood to put the sheet back up. Toby still stood by the beds when Bagwell turned around. “I said, GET in the bunk!” Bagwell pulled Toby’s head down by the nape of his neck. Toby scrambled to the wall, pressing himself into the crease between it and the mattress.

T-Bag was having none of it. He pulled Toby from his safe spot. As the lights went out, he nuzzled into the boy. He draped himself over him. They spooned through the night, with Bagwell’s soft snores in Toby’s ear. Toby didn’t get much sleep that night. The following morning he woke to T-Bag whistling at the sink, shaving the whiskers from his hollow cheeks. When he noticed Toby stir, he tossed the photo of Anna on the bed. “Enjoy y'er day, Sunny.”

 


End file.
